


keeping it quiet

by kurooos



Series: keeping you [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blackmail, Blow Jobs, Bullying, Day 1, Deepthroating, Dubious Consent, Lance (Voltron) Whump, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Office Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Coercion, Shangst Week 2017, Teacher-Student Relationship, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 21:19:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11299044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurooos/pseuds/kurooos
Summary: A mind meld goes seriously wrong when Shiro starts to remember what he saw one night at the Garrison, just before he left for Kerberos.With Lance being there, they might as well be reliving the moment.





	keeping it quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Happy shangst week my lovelies! I'm super excited!  
> Here is Day 1: Garrison

Sometimes Shiro needed to take a walk around the Garrison. Just to clear his head was all. He always had so much to think about at every second of the day.

Shiro was to be deployed with the Holts to Kerberos in a matter of two weeks. All of the provisions and training had been completed and it was simply a waiting game for now.

It wasn’t that Shiro was nervous or scared but he just had so much energy pent up that he needed to go move around at ungodly hours in the night. His need for walks woke him up frequently from his sleep; He considered speaking to a nurse about it before he decided against it on the off chance they deemed him unfit to go on the mission.

It was a dream of his to go into the stars, to be able to get into space and conduct research. There was no way he would muck it all up just because he couldn’t sit still for a bit.

Shiro had a set route planned out. He’d walk by the dark offices and swing around towards the simulation decks. Through here Shiro could idly read the schedules posted by the doors.

It gave his eyes something to do other than track shadows in the dark hallways or think about negative things, like every possibly failure the Kerberos mission could experience.

Walking around during the night near offices also meant Shiro heard some pretty interesting conversations. Nothing dubious, but a few generals weren’t at all as nice as Shiro believed them to be if the way they trash talked the students were any indication of their feelings.

As it was, tonight was no different. Iverson typically was one to be loud and proud of his griping, complaining about his students unable to follow instructions or not grasping concepts quickly enough.

And he was never alone in it, enjoying the company of another general or two (and sometimes even three if Iverson broke out his liquor).

Shiro could hear Iverson and two other generals from down the hallway. Pearson and Manning. They were a duo that sent anyone’s skin crawling. Their happy smiles and white teeth were too bright to not have some underlying darkness. Shiro even dared to claim them worse than Iverson.

Pearson was in charge of an engineering study along with flight aerodynamics and maneuvering where Manning was busy doing office work all day and teaching one class on Tuesdays about discipline and rules of space flight and the academy.

Shiro had been in one of Pearson’s engineering courses and every time the man looked him over it had Shiro looking away and shuddering. It was no surprise rumors started about him coming onto students. It was a problem that the students were too scared to bring up to another teacher, fears of getting booted from the Garrison ran high.

Boisterous laughter suddenly startled Shiro from his reminiscing and he curiously went down the hallway. The door to Iverson’s office was cracked open just barely, enough for Shiro to lean into and peek inside through the crack.

General Manning was seated at Iverson’s leather chair. Leaned back far with his boots up on the pristine desk. He balanced a stubby crystal glass of amber liquid in a hand while his other supported his cheek. His gleaming, amused attention was focused on the other side of the desk. Where Iverson was standing.

Iverson’s back was to the door and so Shiro couldn’t quite see what he was doing. He’d obviously been drinking if the glass settled on the desk by his hand was an indication, the small ball of ice settled innocently in a few drops of whiskey.

As Shiro continued to look over Iverson, he noted that Pearson was standing by, leaned against the corner of the desk and looking down at Iverson’s front, or rather down at his legs.

Shiro was startled when he followed the three general’s lines of sight and saw the body of a cadet down on the floor. Whoever it was, they were on their knees and their hands were above their head, Shiro assumed held against the edge of the table.

All three men in the room were fixated on the cadet, chuckling drunkenly between each other before Iverson’s shoulder tensed.

Shiro didn’t need to see the motion of Iverson swinging to know he’d hit the person in front of him. It was hard enough for the cadet to go sprawling to the floor.

Shiro could now get a good look at his face. His lips were plump and wet with spit and a trickle of blood. Tears glistened in his eyes but his face was dry and free of them. His cheeks were dark with a blush, either from embarrassment or anger or fear, Shiro didn’t know.

Blazing blue eyes glared up at Pearson when his boot nudged him into the side. The cadet sucked at his bottom lip and tongued at the split before he sat himself up on an elbow.

“Get back up, boy. You’re not done.”

Pearson directed him with another nudge from his boot and the cadet swiped at the foot to get it away as he got himself back to his knees. the cadet it seemed was nothing but spitfire and challenging attitude.

Except Iverson wasn’t having the resistance. His fingers grabbed at the cadet’s hair and yanked, startling a cry from the boy.

Shiro was shocked to watch Iverson’s hips thrust forward. A motion that was unmistakable. Shiro’s gut clenched.

“That’s it,” Iverson hissed, tugging the cadet’s face in closer, “open that throat up for me again.”

The general’s body now hid away the cadet’s face but his reluctance wasn’t that easy to hide. During some point, Pearson had grabbed onto one of the cadet’s hands, holding onto his wrist mercilessly while he took another sip of his drink like he wasn’t helping the other man molest one of their cadets.

The boy’s other hand clutched weakly at Iverson’s pants leg at the back of his thigh. Trying to either get him to slow down or try and hold onto something for the trip.

The grip did nothing to deter the general’s thrusts however, backing the cadet’s head up against the desk so he had no place to go.

The boy’s chokes and gags were just as loud as the men talking, discussing the safety of the cadet’s family and the news they received about their son. All if he didn’t do a good job and if he caused too much fuss.

It was blackmail, all of this. Shiro wanted nothing more than to shove open the door and demand they stop right before he turned heel and told the dean about what had happened. The offices and hallways had cameras, surely he’d be able to have solid evidence.

But Shiro was frozen in place, unable to move at all as he watched the scene unfold behind the illusion of privacy. And surely a sense of security, what with three men of high power able to pull their word over anyone else's.

Iverson finally reached for his empty glass and sipped at the last of the watered down alcohol before setting it down again. With the drink, his efforts were mindless.

Shiro could hear the cadet gagging around the cock in his mouth, being forced back to his throat. He would try and turn his head to cough but was met with a shake of his hair and a smack to the side of the face.

Luckily, Iverson didn’t last long drunk. He grunted as he pulled the cadet’s face in hard, an arm now hooked at the back of the cadet’s head as he curled over.

He came with a nasty grunt, growling about how good the boy’s throat felt working around him to try and swallow.

Once he was done, the general stepped away, taking tissue from the desk to wipe himself off and then tuck back into his pants, belting them.

The cadet on the floor coughed, trying to pull away his hand from Pearson. Cum and drool smeared on his chin as he swiped at it with the back of his free hand. He made no noise aside from his heavy panting but he was crying, angry little tears working streaks down his face.

The cadet made to spit on the floor before Pearson yanked his head backwards, grabbing his chin with a gloved hand so he couldn’t get rid of the bitter taste.

“Keep it in your mouth, slut. You know good boys don’t waste.”

Pearson’s grip in the boy’s hair tightened before he smeared his other hand up the boy’s face, taking with it all of the cum and drool and tears.

The cadet barely had time to clench his eyes shut, trying to get away from the slime. It was no use, and once Pearson was done he shoved the boy away roughly.

“Gonna go and finish up Manning there aren’t ya?” he said, not leaving any room for the cadet to think of any other option to do. The heavy threat behind the question was almost tangible in the room.

As he puts a hand on the table and makes a move to get up from his knees, Iverson makes a loud noise, stopping the cadet further.

Iverson was now seated in one of his chairs off to the side, one that guests used when coming to his office. He had his legs spread wide, one hand idly palming at his crotch while the other relaxed on the armrest. With a jerk of his chin he spoke, “He didn’t tell you to get up from your knees. Get over there the right way.”

Shiro watched the incredulity on the cadet’s face as he stayed on one knee, staring at Iverson as if he didn’t hear him right.

When Manning groaned and slammed the edge of his glass on the table, the boy startled, turning to look at him.

“He means to crawl, idiot. You dumb? How’d you get into the Garrison if you can’t even listen right?”

The cadet’s chest suddenly puffed and Shiro thought he might stand up right then and there. However, Manning speaking up again stopped him,

“Straight A’s and a perfect record and somehow you don’t even know how to stay on your knees? At this rate you aren’t even being considered for fighter class.”

Dread washed over the cadet’s face and immediately he deflated, dropping back to his knees. Shiro’s heart ached for him. _Fighter class_. And if Manning wasn’t lying, the cadet was perfectly qualified.

The cadet started to move, crawling around the corner of the desk and finally stopping to the side of Manning’s chair. His fingers were shaking and Shiro hoped it wasn’t because he was about to cry, he hoped it was him about to land a good punch. He may be a little scrawny but Shiro saw potential under the orange and white uniform.

Manning suddenly swung his legs off the table, chair spinning around so the general could now be facing the boy on the floor. In a tense moment everything was silent, still. But the rough slide of Manning’s glass on the table was loud in the room.

The cadet on the floor flinched as liquor splashed in his face and hair. It wasn’t at all cold, from the lack of ice, but it still sent his shoulders trembling.

“You’re a fucking mess.” Manning growled, boot being propped up on the cadet’s thigh.

He had turned his head down now, small drips of the liquor falling to the floor from his bangs and his chin. The splash had cleaned his face only a little from the all of the grime but ultimately did nothing to get rid of it all.

“Come on then,” Manning's boot shifted as he pushed at the boy’s hip, “isn’t gonna suck itself.”

The general’s hand had at some point undone his belt and pants. His cock was now held out from his underwear and Manning gave it a wave with his fingers at the base to try and coax the cadet in.

The cadet sneered, not at all with any heat or fight left, and leaned in, taking the general into his mouth.

Be it from the alcohol, or just plain horny, Manning was impatient. He hit the back of the cadet’s head with a hard slap, shocking him into taking more of his cock. “Get to sucking, bitch, I don’t have all night.”

“You’re disgusting.” Pearson laughed, hip leaning on the edge of the table, he leaned to look over the desk, watching the action. Manning simply waved him off with his hand not holding his empty glass.

His other hand carded through the cadet’s brown hair, tugging every now and then as his mouth worked and sucked on the cock. His head bobbed softly, trying to do the bare minimum to get the general off and not worry about anything else.

Manning fisted his hand in the back of the cadet’s hair and suddenly pushed with a grunt, hips bucking upwards. The cadet was obviously not expecting the force and his shoulders hunched, trying to twist away as he gagged.

However, he wasn’t let up, kept down longer and longer. Shiro was scared that Manning would choke the cadet out but the general clapped the side of the boy’s face and told him firmly to swallow.

After a few moments of the boy reluctantly swallowing, Manning pulled him off. The cadet curled back as if he’d been burned, turning his head down to cough into his hand. The men found something funny about it as they shared a laugh, watching the cadet try and get his breathing under control.

“He needs to have a drink to wash it all down, huh?” Pearson came around the desk, bringing with him the opened bottle of whiskey. There was no obvious branding on it that Shiro could see and it could have only been smuggled into the Garrison. The only alcohol permitted into the Garrison was supposedly too weak for the general’s and officer’s liking. It wasn’t rare or even a secret that stronger stuff was brought in.

Pearson tapped the end of the bottle to the cadet’s downturned head, getting his attention.

When Pearson took the boy’s chin, Iverson grumbled, “Now don’t go wasting my whiskey, Pearson.”

The other general scoffed before wiggling the bottle in the cadet’s face.

“Hear that, boy? Don’t waste a single drop.”

Without waiting for the cadet to nod, Pearson put the mouth of the bottle between the cadet’s lips, suddenly tilting it up.

His hands immediately scrambled to hold onto Pearson’s wrist, forced to swallow mouthful after mouthful of the bitter liquid. When he missed a swallow, whiskey dribbled out from the corners of his mouth, signaling Pearson to pull it back.

The cadet’s cure for his cough ended up making the problem worse, but now his face was flushed, and the more he got jostled around from Pearson and Manning tapping him and pulling him up to his feet, the more Shiro saw him get disoriented.

Now on his two feet, the generals stood as well, crowding him up by the desk.

It was a flurry of words, threats to stay quiet, snide comments about his mouth, directions about what he was going to do next. The generals seemed to get their fill on touching the cadet as well, fingers pinching at the boy’s skin through his uniform and rubbing between his legs, obviously not finding anything worth attending to. The cadet just nodded to everything, eyes rimmed with red, unable to cry anymore.

Pearson was nice enough to wipe at the cadet’s chin, getting rid of the drying grime and alcohol. The three generals helped fix up his uniform, make sure it was spotless before Iverson was taking him by the upper arm and leading him towards the door.

Shiro, with his heart in his throat, yanked himself away from the door, finally able to move as if a spell had been taken away. If he was to be caught there was no telling what consequences could follow.

Iverson didn’t follow the cadet out past the end of the hallway, simply pushed him forward and told him to keep his mouth shut. Shiro stayed tucked around the corner, watching the back of the cadet as he stumbled down the dark halls. Finally he stopped, bumping into the wall with a small sob.

“Lance?”

Both Shiro’s and the cadet’s head turned, seeing another cadet through an open door. He was out of his uniform, already looking as if he were getting into bed.

The cadet–Lance– finally slumped to the floor, a broken laugh leading into quiet sobs; “I’m okay, Hunk. I’m okay, I’m fine-”

Suddenly Shiro’s view swirled, like water was filling the room and he was coming up for air. The kneeling Lance became a smear of color before Shiro’s vision went dark.

When he next opened his eyes Lance was standing up and tearing off his headset. He looked furious, staring right at Shiro who was seated on the training deck floor with wide eyes.

“ _You-_ ”

Hunk, next to Lance, look just as startled.

Lance looked like he was about to say something but then closed his mouth, rushing out of the room.

Shiro had no time to try and explain himself, feeling just as helpless as that night in the Garrison, having no time to stay and try and offer help before he was put into space.

But this time, Shiro didn’t have a mission looming over him and preventing him from chasing after Lance. With bewildered looks of shock from the other paladins, Shiro left the training deck after Lance.

It didn’t take him long to find the other paladin, ripping himself out of his armor, tossing it across the room. _Their_ room.

Lance had somehow at some point moved into Shiro’s room after they started dating. It was a slow process, accidentally leaving pants in there, then leaving a shirt, a hair brush, his face mask. And just like that the rest of Lance’s stuff followed.

Shiro didn’t mind in the slightest, the castle beds were adjustable, able to slide out and make just enough room that both of them could lay comfortably on warm nights.

There was nothing warm at all about the room once the door slid shut behind Shiro. Lance whirled on him, blue eyes as piercing as ice. The room felt as such, and Shiro curiously wondered if Lance somehow picked up his lion’s attributes.

“You were there.”

Lance stated, disbelief thick in his tone, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just seen, as if the memory that had been shared was somehow made up.

But the mind melding never worked like that. The memories were strengthened if more than one of the paladins had experienced the same memory. And both Shiro and Lance had very vivid memories of that night.

Shiro was stunned into silence, scared of what to say.

“Shiro. You were _there._ ” Lance choked, speaking around the lump in his throat and the tears in his eyes, “you sat there and _watched_!”

“I-”

“ _Don’t you dare_.” Lance snarled, glare keeping Shiro in place, unable to step closer. Lance couldn’t decipher what emotion he was feeling, it was a hurricane of everything. Too much, way too much.

“You were there, Shiro!”

“I was.” He said solemnly, calm.

“You were there!” Lance repeated, he didn’t know what else to say, the shock of it still hitting him.

“I know.”

Shiro kept still, let Lance call the shots first. The blue paladin turned and paced for a moment before he stopped where he was before, facing Shiro with hot tears now running down his cheeks. Shiro wanted nothing more than to come to him and brush them away.

“ _Why?_ ”

“Lance, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to watch, I just- the Kerberos mission.”

Shiro watched the emotions switch on Lance, from disbelief and anger to dread. He didn’t know if that was worse or not. Quickly, he tried to explain better.

“I should have done something. I should have talked to someone, or at least to you. I didn’t know who you were at the time and I didn’t know how to find you again. How could I have said something if I didn’t know your name? How could I have barged into the room and stopped them without risking your success at the Garrison, or my plans for the Kerberos mission.

“I know that way of thinking is selfish, and it was. I was selfish back then. I was scared, I didn’t know what to do. Lance, I wanted to do something but I couldn’t. I was too much of a coward to-”

Shiro cut himself off, lips pursing tightly as he looked at Lance. Tears were still falling and Shiro took a step forward.

When Lance didn’t move away from him Shiro finally reached out and brushed warm fingers against Lance’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t do anything. I’m sorry I didn’t stop anything.”

Shiro kept his attention focused, but Lance didn't say anything, just held still as Shiro brushed away his tears. Shiro cupped his face softly, bringing their foreheads together so that Shiro could close his eyes and still make sure Lance was there in front of him.

“Please say something.” He pleaded. Shiro braced himself for the worst, for Lance to completely blow up on him. He deserved it.

“We-” Lance’s voice cracked and he shook his head, fingers soft on Shiro’s wrist to pull his hands away, “We need to take a break. I-I need some time. To myself.”

Shiro kept his eyes closed for a moment, to keep the tears at bay so when he opened them, he could meet Lance head on.

Shiro stepped back, heart clenching with the small step. “I understand. However long you need. I’ll be here for you.”

The door slid open behind Shiro as he drew close to it. With anyone else he might have felt weird about leaving his own room, but it was Lance. Even if he had a room as the blue paladin, his room was with Shiro. And Shiro didn’t mind taking some time away from his things.

“Wait.” Lance called after him, stopping him from completely stepping out of the room. Shiro didn’t want to wait but his feet stopped anyway, body obeying Lance.

The other paladin drew close and Shiro expected...well he didn’t know what it was, but surely being kissed was the last thing on that list.

It was soft, barely a press of lips that reminded Shiro of their first.

Lance chewed at his own bottom lip as he stepped back, swallowing as he looked up at Shiro.

“I still love you, okay? Don’t...don’t go off and think badly of yourself or-or of me. There’s just- I- so much to think about.” Lance held onto Shiro’s arm gently, gave it a squeeze, and Shiro’s stomach knotted. This felt awfully close to a goodbye to him.

“I’ll be in your room. Whenever you’re ready to talk…”

Shiro knew Lance would be able to find him. And he knew they would work this out eventually. He just didn’t know how long it would take.

Lance nodded silently before taking a step back and the door slid shut, like a period on the end of a sentence, closing their conversation with a heavy air of finality.

Shiro didn’t know how long he sat there by his door, heart like stone in his chest as he listened to broken sobs and hiccups from inside. But he knew that he’d fucked up, big time.

Hopefully, just maybe, he’d be able to make it right.

**Author's Note:**

> NGL I was super worried about uploading this fic due to me not resolving my conflict at the end but it's shangst week so we gotta suffer together >:3c


End file.
